


Standing Outside the Fire

by mtothedestiel



Series: Garth Brooks 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Country & Western, Domestic, Established Relationship, Famous Dean, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Musicians, Singer Dean, country music AU, domestic AU, guitarist dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel have a quiet night at home to celebrate their tenth anniversary.  Dean, a famous country musician, wants to serenade Cas with the first song he ever played for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing Outside the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hola readers! It seems in times of stress I react with the fluffiest of AUs. So here's a glimpse of country music star! Dean and Castiel, the love of his life. If you like it, let me know and maybe I'll make a 'verse of it! This comes from my secret love of Garth Brooks, and I highly recommend you listen to the title song before you read the fic. Enjoy!

“Charlie says the tour’s all set,” Dean announced as he hung up his cell.  He wasted no time in digging in to the hot plate of lasagna Castiel set down in front of him.

“Did they finally settle the opening act?” Cas asked as he joined his partner on the couch. 

“Yeah some new mother/daughter set up,” Dean told him around a mouth full of pasta, brow creased in thought, “She just told me the name.  Jody and Annie?  Alex?...Something like that.  Anyway they’re makin’ waves in Nashville apparently.”

“Hm,” Castiel mused as he swallowed a bite of his own dinner, “We’ll have to listen to some of their tracks.”

“I’m sure Charlie’s already making us a care package,” Dean agreed, “Gotta stay up to speed on the up and comers, make sure they don’t knock me off the charts.”

Castiel huffed a laugh.  “That seems highly unlikely.”

“Aw,” Dean teased, “Thanks for the support, babe.”  He kissed Castiel on the cheek, accidently leaving the smallest trace of tomato sauce.  Both men laughed as Dean grabbed a paper napkin to wipe the red smear of Castiel’s cheek.

“Fancy anniversary we’re havin’ so far,” Dean commented, kicking his sock feet up on the coffee table.

“We spend enough time having to go out and be ‘fancy’,” Castiel replied, feeding Dean a bite off his fork before cutting another for himself, “I like being home with you.”

Dean’s smile was warm and Castiel knew he agreed.  As it was they were already known for being a little red carpet shy.  Despite performing in front of stadium audiences, without his guitar Dean was very nervous about appearing in front of crowds, and Castiel certainly wasn’t the most comfortable in the public eye.  The CMA’s had been their last public appearance together besides promotions for Dean’s next tour, and thankfully Castiel had been able to distract himself from the media scrutiny with the excellent fit of Dean’s jet black tux.  Their status as the only same-sex couple in the industry had long been considered old news, but nonetheless Castiel often longed for the comfort and privacy of their expansive Kansas home.

Dinner was a quick affair and Castiel gathered up their plates while Dean tuned up one of his old acoustics, having apparently promised to serenade Castiel for their anniversary.   The tinny sound of the cheaper strings followed Castiel into the kitchen before Dean was satisfied and strummed a few rich chords.

“Any requests?”

“Surprise me.”

“Here’s one you might remember,” Dean called as Castiel deposited their dishes in the sink.  His heart warmed as he heard the fast chords begin over the murmur of the faucet. 

“ _They call them cool,_ ” Dean sang, “ _Those hearts that have no scars to show.  The ones that never do let go, and risk the tables being turned…”_

Castiel smiled as he ran a perfunctory sponge over both their plates.  He loved to hear Dean sing at home, without his stage affectations.  The Kansas accent people recognized from concerts and albums softened to curl around the edges of his words and Dean’s voice was able to relax into its natural lower register.

“ _And we call them fools, who have to dance within the flame…”_

Yes, Castiel had been struck by the beautiful front man he’d seen in concert ten years ago, but he’d fallen in love with the shy, funny, loyal Dean he’d come to know off the stage. 

“ _Who risk the sorrow_ and _the shame, that always comes with getting burned…”_

Castiel rinsed off their dishes as Dean strummed through the first chorus, gaining a little momentum.

“Gonna help me with the next verse, Cas?” Dean shouted from the living room, “ _We call them…?”_

“Strong!” Castiel called back, shaking his head with a grin.  Dean damn well knew the words to their own commitment song.

“ _Those who can face this world alone…”_

“ _Who seem to get by on their own_ …” Castiel murmured along as he returned to the living room, leaning over the back of the sofa to plant a kiss on the side of Dean’s neck.  He wasn’t much of a singer, not like Dean, but his partner’s enthusiasm was contagious.  Dean could sing for a full stadium or just for Castiel and he loved it just as much, though nothing made him brighter than when Castiel made his own fumbling attempts to share in his music.

“ _…Those who will never take the fall,”_ They sang together, Dean tilting his head back so Castiel could bend down again and give him another quick kiss, his hands still moving agilely through the guitar chords. 

“Not us, right handsome?” Dean asked with a wink.

“Never,” Castiel agreed, running a hand through Dean’s cropped blonde hair before sinking back down onto the couch.

“ _We call them_ _WEEAAAKKK_!” Dean crowed, drawing out the last phrase theatrically as Castiel laughed, “ _Who are unable to resist, the slightest chance love_ might _exist, and for that forsake iit all.”_

This time it was Dean’s turn to claim a kiss, abandoning his strumming in favor of pulling Castiel close.  Castiel allowed the strong hand on the back of his neck to guide him, chuckling as the guitar neck got tangled between them.  Dean slipped the strap over his head, leaning the instrument against the coffee table so he could hold Castiel properly, one hand warm at the base of Castiel’s neck and the other on his thigh.

“ _We’re so hell bent on giving, walking a wire,”_ Dean continued to sing breathlessly, with a wry but sweet awareness of his own cheesiness, pressing his lips to Castiel’s skin between each phrase, “ _Convinced it’s not living if we stand outside the fire.”_

Castiel caught Dean in a deeper kiss then, cutting him off before he could reach the bridge, which was a little too saccharine for an a cappella rendition.  Dean didn’t seem to object, parting his lips with soft groan.   Castiel traced the contours of his mouth eagerly, hands on Dean’s waist pressing him gently back against the arm of the sofa until they were practically lying down.  Dean’s fingers were enmeshed in Castiel’s dark hair now, and he hummed at the pleasant sensation against his scalp.  His other hand slid into the back pocket of Castiel’s jeans, and Dean grinned into their kiss as he squeezed, drawing an aroused yelp out of Castiel.  Castiel retaliated by sucking a series of hickeys below the collar of Dean’s flannel, each biting kiss rewarded with a ragged breath.

 Their kisses slowed naturally, keeping the heat at a low simmer.  The pressure at their hips was pleasant but their bellies were still full of dinner and any heavier petting was going to have to wait until they’d both had a good rest.  Castiel felt satisfied and safe, leaving a soft trail of kisses along his partner’s jaw while Dean traced his broad hands up and down the column of Castiel’s spine.  There was no place he’d rather be than tangled up on the couch with the love of his life.

“Hm…love you, babe,” Dean murmured, eyes hooded and cheeks pleasantly reddened by Castiel’s affections.  

Castiel pressed a kiss to the warm skin of Dean’s throat before tucking himself in close and closing his eyes for a quick after dinner nap.

“Happy Anniversary, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

_Ten years earlier_

“ _Dean_.  Are you good or not?”

Twenty-five year old Dean Winchester shook himself at the sound of his brother’s voice, grinning to prove that despite being halfway through their first big time opening gig, it wasn’t stage fright that had made him lose his train of thought.  No, that honor went to the gorgeous man in the V.I.P. section with the tousled hair and the heart stopping eyes.  Dean could just make out his features past the glare of the stage lights and _damn_. 

 “I’m good,” Dean nodded before stepped back up to the mike.  Fantastic, as a matter of fact.

“Are y’all having a good time tonight?”  The crowd roared back at him.  This was a big room, and the energy was unlike anything Dean had ever felt.  It made him feel bold, even in front of a room full of conservative country western fans.     

“Now, normally I would dedicate this next song to its original and, frankly, superior performer, Mr. Garth Brooks,” Dean drawled into the microphone, to the laughter of the crowd, “But tonight I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t gonna be singin’ it to the _ex_ -quisite blue-eyed individual in the fifth row.”

The blue eyes in question went wide as Dean finished speaking and the crowded showroom exploded in cheers at the opening chords of the well known song.  Dean threw the beautiful man a flirty wink as he slipped on his own guitar and jumped into the first verse.   

“ _We call them cool, those hearts that have no scars to show…”_   


End file.
